


Blood Moon Rising

by DreamWeaver1820



Category: Original Fiction - Fandom
Genre: Character Death, Druids, Love, True Love, True Mates, Werewolf Culture, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:14:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24688228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamWeaver1820/pseuds/DreamWeaver1820
Summary: Long ago, in an ancient land, a treaty had been made to keep peace.  It was faithfully honored over the centuries.But now it has been broken.  Blood has been spilled.In three days’ time, the Blood Moon will rise bringing with it a curse.Only selfless love can save the lands.~~~~~~~~~~*****~~~~~~~~~~Darius Aramis knows all too well about curses.  He has been plagued with demons ever since the death of his beloved wife and child.  Retreating from the memories, Darius is sent on a mission to the most northern corners of the Roman territories.Caught up in secrets and deceit, he now must figure out the truth before everyone is made to pay the ultimate price.Time is running out.~~~~~  The Blood Moon is rising  ~~~~~





	1. Chapter 1

It was the changing of the guard. Winter had lost its hold over the lands, and Spring, in all her glory, was taking over. Tender, green shoots of grass carpeted the ground. Newly minted leaves covered tree branches once bare from hibernation. In the sky, birds flew about and sang their unique songs for all to hear. Emerging from their wintery graves, daffodils, and crocuses were in full bloom. Their bright yellows, pale blues, and vibrant purples dotted the landscape. A river, fed by the melting snowcapped mountains to the north, snaked its way through the wilds. Its path took it roaring over a steep drop off and down a narrow gorge below. Shimmering rainbows danced upon the veil-like mist. 

All of this, however, was lost on the solitary Roman soldier who stood at the edge of the river. He watched the currents. He watched mesmerized as they swirled and slithered beneath the surface. His dark thoughts, similar to the currents, lay hidden deep. Deep within himself. Swirling. Slithering. And, like the currents, his thoughts were just as dangerous. At least to anyone foolhardy enough to get close and fall into their unknown depths. 

_Could demons drown?_

_Were they indeed immortal?_

Questions, as such, continuously haunted him. 

Out of habit, he reached for the braided chain he wore around his neck. From underneath his armor, he pulled out a pendant. On either side of the smooth copper disk were engraved two images. Mars, the god of war, adorned one side while on the other was etched a wolf. Legend had it that the wolf was favored by Mars and so, in turn, was revered by the Romans. 

Heartache leached into his very being. Closing his eyes, he rubbed the pendant between his calloused fingers and took a deep breath. The action dulled some of the pain in his soul. But not by much. It had been over three years past since his wife had given him the pendant. 

_Had it indeed been that long ago?_ To him, it felt like a lifetime. 

A rare smile pulled at the corners of his lips as he recalled the reason for the gift. 

His wife had given him good news that day. She had been with child. He, Darius Aramis, a Centurion in Caesar’s Roman Army, was going to be a father. 

He opened his eyes. Still holding the pendant, Darius took a few steps and leaned over just enough to peer into the gorge below him. The wet stones beneath his booted feet were slick. Slick from the rising mist. One misstep and he would plunge to his death. He did not care though. He simply wanted answers and the demons that harassed him gone. 

Darius stepped even closer. Now one booted foot peaked out over the edge of the cliff. 

_Could demons, in fact, be killed?_

If given ample opportunity and the right incentive, it was possible to kill anyone. Or anything. However, to kill these particular entities, he would have to die with them, for they lived inside. 

“Darius!” 

Like dandelion fluff, his thoughts scattered to the wind at the sound of someone bellowing his name. He sighed. Clearly, death will be without a prize today. 

“Darius!” 

He knew without looking that Gabriel, one of his trusted soldiers, approached him. 

Darius had been on sentry duty when the morning broke. He had gone down to the river to be alone with his thoughts. For one of his own men to come looking for him, he, apparently, had lost all track of time. 

Placing a tender kiss upon the pendant, he once more deposited it underneath his armor for safekeeping. Mentally he gathered up all his demons and locked them away. For the time being anyway. Turning his back to the river, he sprinted up the steep embankment. 

Out of the five men under Darius’ command, Gabriel was the newest and youngest. Gabriel had only been under his charge for over a year now. And within that time, the man had proven himself a thousand times over. Even though he was young, it did not detract from his skills as a warrior. And like his brothers-in-arms, Gabriel was a skilled swordsman. However, his real talent was with knives. He could throw a dagger from forty yards out and without fail hit dead center to the mark. His aim was true. 

With purpose, Darius marched to where the young soldier stood waiting. “Gabriel.” He greeted. 

Steely blue eyes surveyed Darius. “By the gods, what were you doing down by the river for so damn long, old man?” 

_Old man?_ Darius lifted a dark brow. A brow that hinted at a bit of grey. It was true dammit. He was old. At thirty-five, he was nearly a decade older than the young pup who stood before him. He should have been back in Rome, running for a senate seat. A position that he was sure his uncle, Marcus Silvius, would gladly buy him. His uncle was a powerful Roman. So powerful, in fact, Caesar himself thought twice before disagreeing with the man. Or so rumor had it. 

“Darius, what had your attention? Something to be aware of?” The concern he heard in Gabriel’s voice pulled him back into the present. 

Shaking his head, Darius answered, “No,” and glanced at the river behind him for a moment, then turned and clapped Gabriel on his shoulder. “Tis nothing of importance.” 

Gabriel looked up. He gauged the sky as he slicked his blond shoulder-length hair back from his face. “We need to be on our way before the skies once more open up and drench us all.” It had rained off and on throughout the night. Emphasizing the fact, Gabriel shook his head like a mutt shakes water from its coat. 

“Aye.” Agreed Darius. 

The two men started for the clearing where they and the others had made camp the night before. 

Absentmindedly, Darius reached down and pulled at the knee-high emerald sea of grass they walked through. “I for one,” he confessed, “will be glad to sleep in a real bed once more.” 

Nodding, Gabriel agreed. “But first, I plan to fill my belly with a hot meal and stout drink. Then find me the most,” using his hands, he outlined the figure of a woman, “shapely female to warm my bed.” Winking at Darius, he continued. “Well, that is after I have buried my cock in her several times over.” 

Gabriel threw back his head and laughed. 

Darius could not help but let out a hearty chuckle. The vitality of youth, such a waste. 

As they continued walking, Darius asked, “Is there anything other than rutting that occupies your thoughts?” 

Gabriel stopped to ponder the question as if his life depended on it. After a moment, he ran to catch up. “Aye, there is only one thing that rivals a beautiful woman.” 

“I dare ask what that would be.” 

Grinning and putting his arm around Darius’ shoulder in a camaraderie fashion, Gabriel firmly declared, “Fighting! Fighting and Fucking. The two best things in this shit hole of a world, my brother.” 

Darius could not help but let a tiny grin trespass his stern features. It was short-lived when Gabriel suggested, “You might find a rare beauty yourself once we get to the post. It has been a long time si…” 

Both men halted. The look Darius gave the young man had his words trailing off. Removing his arm from Darius’ shoulders, Gabriel held up both hands in a motion of surrender. 

“Apologies, Sir. I did not mean to awaken painful memories.” 

Down deep in his soul, Darius could feel his demons plunge and twist the dagger deeper into his heart. Their constant torment was a reminder that their purpose was to make every minute of his life a living hell. 

A heavy silence fell over the two as they continued to the camp. 

A short time later, the two men stepped into a clearing that was a flurry of activity. Horses were being saddled, weapons checked, and supplies packed up. Everyone was getting ready to move out. 

Gabriel, looking contrite and not saying a word, went to prepare his things. 

Standing at the edge of the clearing, Darius regarded the men under his command. Coming from far off lands, they were a motley bunch. Plucked from their families when mere boys, Rome had molded them into lethal weapons. Now, as men, they fought wars in the name of the Roman Empire. Darius and his men were from the Mounted Order and were well-known for their horsemanship. They held the title as Roman Knights. 

Walking through the dismantled camp, each knight greeted Darius with respect. “Sir,” they addressed him and saluted with their right arm across their chest. 

Sitting atop a huge warhorse was a giant of a man. Leaning over the pommel of his saddle, he scraped dirt from underneath his fingernails using a dagger. At six-foot-seven and over three hundred pounds of solid muscle, Thorn towered over them all. 

“Everyone is ready, _Domine_ ,” his baritone voice rumbled, “to get this fucking journey over with.” 

Thorn was a force to be reckoned with. Just the sight of the large man was intimidating. However, only to the enemy. Or to someone who had the misfortune of pissing him off. 

Before Darius could agree with him, another of the men spoke up. “As we all are, you overgrown balding ox!” 

Thorn said nothing but sent the other man a murderous glare. In turn, the other man simply laughed. 

“Sage,” warned Darius, “you forget the last time you goaded Thorn.” 

Sage was their tracker. One of the best. His ability to follow and hunt down anything – man or beast – was uncanny. Once, after a drunken night of revelry, someone had stolen his horse and coin. By the time the sun rose the following day, Sage had his horseback and a bloody, repentant thief in tow. 

The same horse now munched away at young grass shoots underneath an old gnarled oak tree. Leaning against the tree, Sage crossed his arms. His handsome features broke into a challenging grin. Trying to corral the huge smile, Sage nodded, “Aye. I do. The women thought me quite handsome with the black eye Thorn gifted me.” 

“How about a broken jaw this time, so you are not able to eat?” The big man pointed the dagger, still in his hand, at Sage and made to dismount. 

“Stay where you are soldier.” A commanding voice threatened. With a huff, Thorn settled back down on his mount. Sheathing his dagger, he gave Sage a look of promise. A promise of his meaty fist smashing into his angelic face. Sage just smiled. 

Luca, who had given the order, stared coldly at both men for a moment, then went back to saddling his horse. 

Second-in-command, Luca was Darius’ closest friend. They had grown up together and had fought side by side. Over the years, each had unburdened their sins to the other. And, without a shadow of a doubt, both men knew that they could trust the other to carry all their secrets to the grave. 

Luca nodded at Darius and then mounted his horse. Glancing at Thorn, Luca confirmed, “We all are ready to get this mission over with.” 

A rough gravelly voice added, “Some more than others it would seem.” 

Shayd. 

He was the most mysterious of them all. Even though being a part of the group since the beginning, no one knew that much about him. And Shayd was not forthcoming with any information. Darius had once overheard him claim he came from a Shadow Walker clan in the East. 

Shadow Walkers were individuals who could walk between the worlds of the living and the dead. What Darius did know about Shayd was that he fought with a skill beyond that of a mere mortal. Anyone on the receiving end of the man’s sword was already dead but did not know it yet. 

The two remaining individuals that made up their group were civilians. A boy, no more than ten years of age, and his slave. The young boy was their mission. He was the reason Darius and his men were traveling through this forsaken land. 

Over two months ago, his uncle, Marcus Sulla, a retired general turned senator, had come to him in secret. 

His uncle had received a message from the commander of Bar Hill – a fort in the northernmost regions of Rome and near Antonine’s Wall in Britannia. Somehow the commander of the fort had gotten word that there was a plot to kill his only son. The commander wanted Marcus to arrange for his son’s safe journey to the fort. And the only man Marcus trusted was Darius and his knights. 

Darius strode over to where the boy sat on a fallen tree. “How did you sleep, Atticus?” 

“Fairly well.” The boy answered. Standing, he instructed his slave to get down on all fours next to his horse so that he could mount it. The slave struggled to get to his feet. The man was old, and the damp, cool weather tortured his arthritic joints. Darius stepped forward to help the slave, but the boy held up his hand, “He can do it himself. Can you not, Gannus?” 

“Aye, young Master. I can.” With some struggle, the old slave got to his feet and mounted his own horse. 

“When will we be at my father’s post, Centurion? I am tired of this travel. I wish to be at my father’s side by tonight, if not sooner.” Atticus spoke with an arrogance born of his station. 

Darius heard the snorts and chuckles from his knights behind him but ignored them. “By nightfall, we should be at the garrison.” He answered. 

Sage mumbled under his breath, “That is if someone does not go missing before then.” 

Darius glared at Sage but said nothing in return. 

“Do you know why my father summoned me?” Atticus questioned. 

Marcus was a cunning bastard. His uncle had another reason why he had chosen Darius for the covert mission. And that was to get Darius as far from Rome and his troubles as possible. His uncle had good intentions, but the demons that stalked his dreams in Rome had followed him to this godforsaken country. 

“Centurion?” 

Darius had been instructed not to tell the boy the reason for the journey, “I do not.” But Darius wondered why uproot a boy from his way of life. The boy was safe in Rome. Why be hauled off to the ends of the world. It did not make sense. 

Turning from the boy, Darius walked to where his horse was tied. One of the knights had saddled the animal already. Swinging up into the saddle, he took one last look around and then spurred his horse into action. 

Everyone followed except Sage. He was about to until something caught his eye. Maneuvering his horse over to the edge of the clearing, he looked down. Frowning, he cocked his head to one side. There on a thorny vine was snagged a tuft of black hair. Fur, to be precise. 

Dismounting next to the thick patch of thorny brambles, he swiped back and forth over the ground with his booted foot. Intrigued, he squatted down on his haunches to get a better look. Picking up a nearby stick, he flicked bits of dried grass and leaves aside. 

Deep in thought, he barely noticed Shayd standing beside him. “What is it?” Shayd asked. 

“Looks like we had a visitor last night.” Sage outlined a faint print for Shayd to see. 

The man leaned down. Squinting his eyes, he tried to focus on the track Sage had found. “Hmmm. I can barely see anything. You sure you see a track?” 

With the stick, Sage outlined the paw print. “If I had to guess, I would say a wolf sat here watching our camp last night.” 

Sage stood and flung the stick away. He reached for the fur and plucked it from the thorny vine. “It was a large animal.” He held up the fur, “A rather large black one.” 

“If there was a wolf here, our horses would have warned us. No?” inquired Shayd. 

True, the scent of a wolf would have alerted the horses. That was what so puzzling to the tracker. 

Mounting his horse, Sage replied, “Yes.” Then he shrugged his shoulders, “I do not know.” Shaking his head, he could not keep the uncertainty out of his voice, “Maybe the animal was upwind from us. But still, yet, the horses should have noticed a wolf that close by. It was definitely watching us last night.” 

Guiding his horse along the edge of the thicket. Sage stopped and rubbed the back of his neck, perplexed. 

Knowing that look, Shayd asked, “What? What did you find?” 

“That’s just it. See?” Pointing to the thicket, Sage continued. “The prints are here close to the bushes and saplings. And there,” he motioned, “was where he sat. Watching.” 

Shayd remained quiet and got on his horse. 

“But what is odd,” Sage continued mostly for his own confirmation, “is that there is no trail leaving this area. I cannot tell which way the animal came or went.” 

“You? Rome’s best tracker, and you cannot tell in which direction the animal has gone? “ 

“It is just strange.” Not baited into the good humor ribbing of his friend, Sage shook his head, “The animal’s tracks disappear. As if by magic.” 

Before Shayd pointed his horse in the direction the others had taken, he joked, “You are losing your touch, brother. We will have to get rid of you now, for certain.” 

Sage just sat atop his horse, scanning the area. 

“Come on. We need to catch up with the others. It was just a wolf.” Shayd pointed out 

Sage bent down from his horse and snatched up the tuft of fur from the vine. “Maybe we will see it along the way.” 

“If so, then one of us will have a nice wolf pelt to keep them warm tonight.” 

Both men spurred their horses into a gallop leaving behind them a mystery. A mystery that did not sit well with Sage.


	2. Chapter 2

It was late afternoon when the group finally stopped beside a stream. Peeking out from behind a cluster of moody gray clouds, a pale-yellow sun reflected off the water.

The small party had ridden for most of the day, pushing their mounts to their limits. White froth coated the necks and flanks of the horses. The animal’s labored breathing mingled with the sound of the flowing stream. With an urgency born of necessity and with no thought to their masters, the horses quenched their thirst in the cold water.

Groaning, the men dismounted. Darius felt a tinge of guilt. He had pushed both men and beast hard, wanting this journey to be over with. The sooner, the better.

“I think my ass fell off some ways back,” Grumbled Thorn as he rubbed his backside, “I cannot feel it any longer.”

“Like your dick?” Sage remarked as a mischievous grin crossed his tired face.

Thorn saluted Sage with both his two middle fingers and mouthed the words, _Fuck you_.

The faint rumbling of thunder drew Darius’s attention towards the south. Clouds, dark and angry, were gathering. By the look of it, this was not going to be an innocent Spring shower. No. This storm was garnering strength. And moving fast.

“A few more miles, and we should be at the fort before dark. We rest here a bit,” Darius ordered. “Once the horses catch their breath, we leave.”

More lightening whipped through the smoldering clouds. Seconds later, thunder exploded off in the distance. “With only a few more hours of daylight left,” Darius informed them. “I want to be behind garrison walls and with a roof over my head. I do not need the heavens opening up, and the gods pissing on us.”

His men nodded their agreement and went about taking care of things.

After both men and horses quenched their thirst from the stream, they all relaxed. The horses grazed upon lush, sweetgrass that was close by. The men ate a meager feast consisting of weeks old jerky and berries found nearby. Finding a crab apple tree, Shayd tossed the tart fruit to whoever wanted some.

Biting into the apple, Luca spied Gabriel, who sat apart from the others. Curiosity got the better of him, and so he strode over to where the younger man sat against a tree. “You are awfully quiet,” remarked Luca.

Gabriel shrugged.

“You usually have some tale to regal us about your conquests with the opposite sex. But here you sit.” Luca kicked Gabriel’s foot with his, “Nothing?”

Silence.

Luca’s steady gaze settled upon Gabriel. He could not quite discern the man’s wish to be by himself when he was normally the wise-cracking fool of the group.

Determined to solve the mystery, Luca persisted. “Usually, you cannot shut up, but today no words have spilled from your lips since we broke camp this morning.”

Still, Gabriel kept silent.

“Something on your mind?”

The young man again shrugged, then, with his mouth, tore off a chunk of the stringy, leather-like jerky. He began chewing the tough meat.

“I thought you would be glad that the journey is almost over,” Luca prodded.

“I am.” Gabriel finally admitted after swallowing.

“For the love of the gods man, what has you in such a sullen mood?”

After a moment, Gabriel confessed, “I overstepped with Domine.”

Knowing his friend, Darius, to be a fair man, Luca asked, “How so?”

“This morning, I told him that he could find himself a woman to lay with at the fort.”

“I see.” Luca rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. Gabriel’s intentions were good, but he was young and spoke before he let the words march from his mouth at times.

Getting up from where he sat, Gabriel vehemently admitted, “I did not mean to bring up such bad memories. I was not thinking when I said it.”

Luca leaned up against the tree Gabriel had been sitting next to. “The day Darius brought Asena back with him, was the day I knew I had lost my friend forever. I lost him that day to love.”

Gabriel’s eyes lit up with curiosity. “Brought back? I thought they met in Rome?”

“No.” Luca crossed his arms, “You see, Asena was a Pict.”

“ _What_? You lie”

Raising his right hand, “I swear. The woman was from Britannia and a Pict.”

Like a fog burned off by the sun, the sullenness that had engulfed Gabriel for most of the day evaporated and his interest grew. “Go on.”

“You see, this is not Darius’ first time to the fort. No, he has had several tours in the area, especially at Bar Hill.

Some time back, Darius was out on patrol. A few of the garrison’s horses had come up missing. He and several others were ordered to track down the thieves and deal with them on the spot.”

Like a child being told a bedtime story, Gabriel listened, absorbing every detail.

“Soon Darius and his group had caught up with the handful of horse thieves as they camped in the woods. A battle ensued. Asena leapt onto one of the horses and rode away with Darius hot on her heels.”

Luca took another bite of his apple, knowing the pause in the telling would drive the other man insane.

“Dammit, Luca!”

Chuckling the Knight continued the story. “After riding at breakneck speeds through the trees, Darius finally caught up with her.

Remember now, Darius did not know that the thief he was chasing was a woman. He simply thought a thief was trying to escape death by running.

So, as Darius prepared to deliver a death blow - “Raising his arm, Luca held up an imaginary sword, “- Asena turned to look behind her.

Her cloak fell from her head, and her beauty blinded Darius. So much so that he nearly was unseated from his horse by a low hanging branch.”

“Women,” Gabriel confirmed knowingly and with such seriousness.

“Darius told me later that the very sight of her stole his breath away. He could not think for her beauty was so intoxicating.”

After several minutes of silence, Gabriel blurted out, “So? What happened?”

“Long story short, Darius vied to marry her and won.”

“He fought for her?”

“Yes. Asena was betrothed to another, you see, someone of another clan. Someone that was not too happy that he had lost such a beautiful and important woman.”

“Darius did not kill off the competition?”

Luca barked a laugh at Gabriel’s enthusiasm. “No.” He shook his head, “Asena would not let him. She was the Medicus – healer of her clan. It went against her nature to harm a living being.”

Gabriel nodded, absorbing all he was being told. “I know that she died in childbirth.”

Luca’s pale green eyes narrowed, but before he could reply, Gabriel confessed, “Soldiers talk.”

Hesitating a moment, Luca admitted, “Yes. She departed from this world while Darius was away fighting for Rome. Her death and that of his child nearly ripped him apart.”

Luca pushed himself away from the tree. Placing a hand on Gabriel’s shoulder, he said, “Do not worry overly much about your words. The words were sharp, but Darius is a quick healer. I know he holds no malice towards you. You did apologize, yes?”

“I did.”

“Then leave it. There are more important things. Like getting your horse ready so we can get the hell out of here.” With that, Luca walked away.

~~~~~~~~~*****~~~~~~~~~

Standing underneath a nearby oak, Sage focused on another in their group.

Gannus.

The old slave seemed somewhat nervous as he went about his duties to his young master. The man was nervous. Or distracted. At one point Gannus nearly dropped the bladder of fresh water when Atticus had to yell the slave’s name twice to get his attention

Something was off.

Sage took note of how the old man kept glancing over his shoulder in the direction they had recently traveled. 

Tossing the apple core away, Sage left the shade tree. He walked over to where Gabriel stood by his horse. Resting his arms on the horse’s saddle, Sage whispered, “Does the boy’s slave seem to be acting strange to you?”

Gabriel turned, studied the slave, then shrugged his shoulders, “He is a slave. Seems normal to me.”

“He keeps looking for something.”

“Or someone?” Gabriel added.

“Yes.”

“You should let Darius know.”

Nodding his agreement, Sage made his way to where Darius was checking his horse’s feet.

“Darius.”

“What is it?” he mumbled.

“Have you noticed that the boy’s slave is acting somewhat edgy? Apprehensive even?”

Letting go of the horse’s front leg, Darius straightened up and looked at the man in question. “I started noticing that a few miles back.”

“Maybe we should see what has turned him into a frightened rabbit.”

“No need,” Luca interjected as he walked up to them, “I think I know.”

The other two men looked at Luca, who, in turn, nodded his head towards the hills to the east of them.

“Picts,” Sage said with loathing.

Lined along the top of the hill were a band of two dozen or so warriors. Darius could tell, even from this distance, that both men and women made up the group’s ranks. Woad - blue war paint - marked their bodies for an impending battle, and each one of them either carried a spear or bow.

To a degree, Rome revered the Britannia warriors. They fought with a fierceness that rivaled no other, but they also did so without honor. Whatever territory Rome claimed, in due course, the Picts would reclaim it. Always by any means necessary. They were hell-bent on protecting their lands from the Roman hoard. And Darius could not blame them. He would do the same.

Outnumbered by almost three-to-one, Darius regarded the potential threat. The odds did not concern him. The fighting skills and years of battle evened the odds considerably. What bothered him was Atticus. He did not want to risk the boy’s life in a skirmish. And so, did not want to engage the enemy right now.

“Mount up!” Darius commanded as he flung himself into the saddle. “Ride!”

The Roman’s sudden actions spurred the Picts into motion. Like a poised predator, it only took seconds for the Picts to give chase.

Adrenaline coursed through the veins of both men and beasts as they raced across the hills.

The horses’ labored breathing and rhythmic pounding of hoofbeats were the only sounds.

Darius led the way while three Knights - Thorn, Luca, and Shayd - protected the boy and his slave by surrounding them. Gabriel and Sage brought up the rear.

Even having rested the animals earlier, exhaustion soon slowed their pace. The Picts were catching up. It looked like a battle would be inevitable.

Topping the crest of a hill, the Caledonian Forest came into view. Reining in his horse, Darius scanned the countryside. The ancient forest stretched on for miles. Its dense foliage would offer the perfect coverage for them. And for their enemy. They could be riding into an ambush, but he had no choice. The Picts behind them were gaining ground. Fast.

“If we get to the forest, we might have a chance.”

They spurred their horses down the hillside and across the valley. Within minutes, they halted at the tree line and withdrew their swords. Thorn put himself between Atticus and the Picts. Gannus stayed close to his young master.

“What are they waiting on?” questioned Sage.

The Picts had stopped their pursuit. They stood on the hill where Darius and his knights were just a short time ago.

A young Pict rider started to head down the hill, ready to do battle. An older warrior, however, grabbed his horse’s reins. He shook his head as he pointed in their direction. A brief argument ensued, but the older of the two won out. As if on cue, they all turned their horses around and left the way they had come.

“Where are they going?” Atticus wondered out loud.

Darius shook his head, “I have no clue, boy.”

“I propose we do not wait around to find out,” Sage recommended.

“Agreed,” remarked Thorn.

Riding along the tree line, they soon came upon a crude road. A road Darius had traveled during his time in Britannia. A road that he once traveled with his new bride.

Forged by the legions of Roman soldiers over the decades, the route led to the fort. It was wide enough for supply carts or for two horsemen to ride abreast of each other.

Taking point, Darius led them into the forest. This journey could not end soon enough.

They had not been riding for long when Darius stopped abruptly. Like a well-oiled machine, the Knights instinctively halted. Atticus and Gannus followed suit.

Darius cocked his head to one side. After a few moments, Luca guided his horse alongside Darius. He scanned the surroundings. Pale sunlight filtered through the trees, even with the approaching storm.

“Centurion, why have we stopped?” Atticus whispered. The boy felt the unease of the warriors. “Is it the Picts?”

“Be quiet.” Sage cautioned as he maneuvered his mount to the other side of Darius.

“Listen.” Instructed Darius.

A moment later, Luca replied, “I do not hear anything.”

“That is just it. There are no birds singing nor forest animals scurrying about.”

“Even the fucking bugs are silent,” Sage observed.

From behind them, Gabriel added, “It is like they sense danger and have gone to ground.”

The silence was unnerving.

Even the wind did not dance through the branches.

Their whole surroundings felt dead.

A feeling of anticipation settled over them. It felt like death, itself, lurked in the shadows.

Waiting.

Watching.

Everyone felt it.

Even the horses. They snorted and pawed the ground, eager to be on their way.

“Can we be gone from this place, Centurion?” Atticus whimpered, “I do not like it here.”

That they could all agree upon.

“We are but a short distance from the fort. Let us go but keep your eyes open.” Darius warned.

“What do you think it is?”

“Demon Dogs.” Gannus squeaked.

“What? Speak up!” Atticus commanded in a voice that cracked.

“The woods, my Master. Demon Dogs, they prowl these woods.” The slave was visibly shaken. His dark eyes darting from one side of the road to the other.

“How do you know this?” Gabriel inquired.

“And what the hell are Demon Dogs?” Sage demanded.

“I grew up not too far from here. I was captured by Romans when I was but 10 summers old. I still remember the stories the elders told. Of creatures that roamed these woods on occasion.” He rubbed his left arm as if he were cold. “I still remember.”

“Bah,” snorted Thorn. “Bedtime stories to scare little children.”

“It does not matter. Keep alert,” Darius instructed as he spurred his horse.

After riding a bit, the group could see that the trees were thinning, indicating the forest’s end.

“We are almost there,” Darius said, “Just a little…”

Without warning, a huge branch as thick as a grown man’s thigh came flying from out of the woods. It landed on the path a few feet in front of them.

Startled, the horses pranced about, and a couple reared up on their hind legs. The men drew their swords.

“What the hell?” Sage said, trying to calm his mount.

“That did not just fall from a tree,” Luca insisted.

“Nor could any man have thrown it,” Thorn added.

“Quiet,” Darius commanded, holding up his hand.

Still, the eerie silence permeated their surroundings. The horses snorted. The animals were battle-trained, but something in the woods had them spooked. No reassuring strokes nor soothing tones spoken could calm the nervous animals.

Off to their left, a twig snapped. In the silent forest, it sounded like an explosion. The knights looked around, swords at the ready, but they could not see anything. The hairs on the back of everyone’s necks stood on end.

“Darius,” Thorn whispered, “I have a bad feeling about this.”

“When do you not?” replied Shayd.

“Enough! Keep a sharp lookout,” Ordered Darius as he guided his horse around the branch in the road and continued riding with caution.

Several yards up ahead, everyone stopped when Sage pointed to a rather large tree off to one side of the road. “Look.”

A collective “What the hell?” rippled through the group. Upon the trunk of the tree were massive claw-like slashes.

Atticus whimpered, “What did that?”

“Bear maybe?” Gabriel volunteered.

“Possibly,” Sage answered skeptically.

“Stay alert.” Darius commanded, “Whatever it is, it might still be out there.”

“It might be hungry and looking for a nice little meal.” Pinning the boy with a hard stare, Sage grinned wickedly.

The boy visibly paled and swallowed but made no retort.

“Enough already,” Darius warned. “The fort is just ahead. We travel single file.”

Slowly they followed the narrow road that led through the forest.

Soon the trees started to thin out, and off in the distance, torches of the fort came into view.

“We made it!” the boy exclaimed, and relief washed over his face. Soon he would be in his father’s loving embrace. Atticus’s look of relief morphed into one of terror when a menacing growl rumbled to the left of them.

Caught off guard by the threatening sound, the horses nearly unseated their riders.

Again, a twig snapped making one of the scared horses bolt.

At breakneck speed, Atticus’s horse raced from the forest out into the open with Atticus holding on for dear life.

Determined to rescue the boy, Gannus gave chase before Darius could halt him.

What happened next had them all in shocked disbelief.


End file.
